


gotta few things to work through

by tousled



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, OCD, obsessive thinking, other characters mentioned briefly, rtte, set during rtte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tousled/pseuds/tousled
Summary: “Why do you brush your teeth for exactly two minutes and thirty five seconds every single day?” Tuff asks.“What?” Astrid asks, dumbfounded. “Are you counting how long I brush my teeth?”“Exactly two minutes and thirty five seconds.”





	gotta few things to work through

**Author's Note:**

> #httydrarepairweek2019 day 7: routine // you can’t be here right now. 
> 
> Short & sweet to end the week. 
> 
> I just have all loved up by amy shark on the brain so that’s where the title is from.
> 
> Ask me about my Astrid headcanons.

It is a Tuesday afternoon when Astrid first notices she’s being followed. She is doing her rounds, checking no traps have been sprung and stretching Stormfly’s wings and when she lands at the Western Guard tower she can feel the eyes on her. Unsettled, she looks around, casting her eyes to shadows to pick someone up but after a moment she sees blonde braided hair and zippleback spines. 

_ Ah _ , she thinks. The twins are trying to pull a prank on her. That makes a lot of sense. She thinks nothing more of it, the bush behind her giggling as she checks each rope holding the lumber traps up. 

For an entire week, Astrid feels eyes on her. It upsets her in a way she can’t explain, this creeping feeling of being watched. She’s not in Berk anymore, not under the judging eyes of their parents, their teachers watching and waiting for her to fail. She’s at breaking point, ready to snap the second anyone looks at her, when they  _ finally  _ pull off the prank. She’s been absolutely on edge and and steps out of the pie flinging trap neatly, axe at the ready. She thinks that’s it, no more eye 

It is not. 

There is no giggling, Ruff doesn’t talk to her for three days because she broke their stupid pie flinging machine, and the eyes are still on her. If Tuff isn’t careful Astrid’s gonna accidentally stab him, thinking it’s a dragon hunter or something. She’s gonna just stab him because she can’t stand being looked at. 

He makes the mistake of getting lazy when Astrid’s brushing her teeth at the base of the stream by camp. He steps on a twig, or a branch or a shell and Astrid swings  around. 

“Why are you following me?” Astrid demands, brandishing her toothtwig like it’s a knife. 

“Why do you brush your teeth for exactly two minutes and thirty five seconds every single day?” Tuff asks. 

“What?” Astrid asks, dumbfounded. “Are you counting how long I brush my teeth?” 

“Exactly two minutes and thirty five seconds.” 

“If you don’t leave in  _ exactly  _ two minutes and thirty five seconds I will skewer you will my toothtwig.” Astrid threatens, and Tuff squeaks. He flees before Astrid really does go through with her threat, back towards the main encampment.  _ Good riddance _ , Astrid thinks,  _ that’s the end of that _ . 

It stops the watching. It does not, however stop Tuff. 

“Why do you jog for exactly twenty five minutes and seventeen seconds every morning around the Edge?” He asks, joining her on Astrid’s final lap. She trips him. The smack he makes against the ground is far too satisfying. 

“Why you chew your food exactly eight times before swallowing?” He asks, learning over the table as everyone looks at Astrid. 

“That’s the perfect amount of chewing to then swallow your food.” Astrid says, patiently in way she wouldn’t have been if Ruff wasn’t scrutinising her. She hadn’t been impressed about the sand burn on Tuff’s face but he told her it was when he was teaching Chicken how to surf. 

“Ha!” Snotlout exclaims. “Chewing’s for babies.” Last week Snotlout choked on soup, so he can barely talk. 

“Babies can’t chew,” Fishlegs says, “they don’t have teeth. Not chewing is for babies. 

“Shut up Fishface.” Snotlout replies. The conversation revolves into Hiccup trying not to take sides and 

“Why do you stir your bowl of mutton exactly sixteen times before you eat it?” Tuff asks and Astrid gets up. She’s had enough. 

“Why does it take you exactly forty minutes to bathe - not that I’m looking! I’m just counting from when you go to the pools to when you come back.” Tuff asks. Astrid thinks about dunking his head under the water. Wet braids are a punishment of their own. 

“Don’t count how long I’m in the water.” Astrid says. “Stop evaluating my fucking life. It’s fucking weird.” 

“Why,” Tuff starts and when Astrid gives him a look he cowers. He looks like he wants to ask the question anyway, like the question is burning up inside him and Astrid doesn’t fucking  _ know.  _ She doesn’t time herself, she doesn’t make  _ sure  _ she spends two minutes and thirty five second on her teeth, or why it’s twenty five minutes seventeen seconds around The Edge. There’s only one thing she repeats and - 

_ Oh.  _

“Don’t ask me any fucking more questions.” Astrid says, stupid, and weak and a  _ failure  _ under Tuff’s watchful eyes. It’s ridiculous, but she thought maybe The Edge was freedom, but apparently you just carry your problems with you, wherever you go. 

“Can I speak?” Tuff asks, “am I allowed to ask those sorts of questions?” 

“No.” Astrid says. “On all counts. And don’t look at me.” 

Tuff spends the next three weeks looking away whenever Astrid walks into the room. He doesn’t speak to her, and at first it’s enjoyable but then she starts to miss the annoyance. Hiccup asks if there’s something wrong and it makes Astrid feel more brittle and watched than Tuff’s careful eyes ever did. Hiccup’s watchful gaze isn’t careful, it feels like pressure of Berk’s and she wishes that if she told him to stop fucking looking he would. 

It is a mission when things change, it is always a mission when something goes wrong. The cave system is a lot more catacomb then they realised, and a lot better known by the dragon hunters. It’s obviously a trap, but they’re crowded up in a tight space when the explosion goes off and Astrid throws herself over Tuff’s exposed front. 

When the air clears, it is just her and Tuff, his eyes screwed shut like he’s scared of Astrid more than the cave in. She gets up off him and calls around for Stormfly, for Barf and Belch but she can’t hear them. Tuff sits up, awkward and slow and his eyes still shut. Astrid sighs. 

“You can look at me Tuff.” Astrid says.

“Oh thank goodness,” Tuff breathes heavily, like maybe he was holding his breath too. “It’s been very hard not looking. You’re so very nice to look at.” 

“You’re weird.” Astrid says. She looks up, catching his eye and he grins when she does. She looks away. 

“Can I ask questions again?” Tuff queries, learning forward. 

“You already did,” Astrid shrugs. When Tuff doesn’t reply she glances up again and then nods eight times. 

“Why do you do everything eight times?” 

“It’s an important number.” Astrid shrugs. She doesn’t want to explain further. Under someone else’s eyes it feels stupid. Her stomach rolls. 

“Ok.” Tuff agrees. 

They sit for several long moments in silence, a drip of water further down the cave 

“Will something bad happen if you don’t do it eight times?” 

“Yes.” Astrid says, truthfully. It doesn’t make sense, not logically, but Astrid  _ knows  _ the attack on Berk was her fault. She didn’t lap the Island on Stormfly’s back for the full eight laps. The eel mishap was because she’d been distracted and not tapped down eight times. 

“Ok.” Tuff says.

“The routine, is important.” Astrid explains. She doesn’t explain any further. She waves her hands, an approximation of what she means but it is no more clear than before. 

“I don’t mind if something bad happens.” Tuff replies and Astrid wants to throw up. 

“Shut up.” She says. He is earnest, and he is looking at her and how did she ever think the weight of his eyes looking at her was too heavy. He is not the eyes of Berk, of judgement of her failures, criticisms of her work. 

He is careful eyes that consider the weight of time burdening Astrid. To notice the pattern, eight this, eight that, multiples of eight when one set won’t do. 

“I will make one addition to the routine, though.” Astrid says. Tuff looks up. 

“Yeah?” Tuff asks, soft. Astrid leans over and kisses him, eight times. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
